She Called My Name
by Alydia Rackham
Summary: Teyla's baby comes too soon. There is no language or sexual content, but it's rated M for trauma, death and a childbirth scene.
1. Chapter 1

This is a warning: you may not like this one. It will turn out to be very, very sad. However, I felt compelled to write it as a possibility, to stretch myself as a writer.

Of course, I own none of Stargate: Atlantis.

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

_She Called My Name_

_Whack!_

John Sheppard swore, but he did not double over as Ronon's bantos stick struck him across the knee. Instead, he ignored it almost as if he could not feel it. He withdrew slightly, fire in his eyes, sweat dripping down his face, then lunged at his friend again.

The weapons cracked and snapped against each other with unaccustomed viciousness as the two men whirled and dodged in a violent dance. Ronon caught John in the forearm. Pain blared up to John's shoulder, proving that no matter how deeply he tried to submerge himself in the fight, he could not focus. His thoughts were in the Gate room.

Where Teyla was.

Where Kanan was.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_Teyla's people, the Athosians, had been missing for almost five months, now. The search continued for them, tirelessly. Teyla would not relent in her efforts, urging all of Atlantis to keep up their earnestness to locate them. When John had first learned that they had gone missing, he had joined in the work, striving as hard as anyone to discover what had happened to them and where they were._

_And then he had learned that Teyla was pregnant. _

_John had strolled into the infirmary to ask Dr. Keller a question---a question which was driven from his mind when he caught sight of her studying a full-body scan of a woman. "What's that?" he had asked, for some reason filling with an odd, foreboding feeling. Dr. Keller had whirled around and begun stammering at first, for he had caught her unawares, but he had pressed her so hard that she finally relented and told him what he wanted to know. _

_And then he had nearly been sick. _

_For a very long while after that, he could hardly speak to Teyla. He did not have to explain his suddenly awkward and aloof behavior--he could tell that she knew that he had learned her secret. And yet every day that went by that she did not come out and tell him what had happened felt like a slow, confined torture; a blunted pain. He had always trusted her. Apparently, she did not trust him._

_Out of an agonizing need to know, he had pressed other sources for more information, and finally heard, from Dr. Keller again, that the father was probably an Athosian named Kanan---a man amongst the missing. _

_Kanan. A man John had never really even talked to. John could barely remember what he looked like. A man who had never fought for her, or risked absolutely everything to save her life. And yet, she had chosen him. _

_One night, when Teyla had been showing her condition for about three months, John lay in bed, staring at the ceiling again. He did not sleep very well, anymore. _

_He missed Teyla's easy, unaffected company so much, but he did not know how the two of them could just pretend that nothing had happened. He had done something to break her trust. And how could he ever regain it when he could not possibly understand what she had done?_

_A soft dinging sounded, telling him someone waited outside his door. He took a breath and glanced over at his clock. It was past midnight. Sighing deeply and rubbing his eyes, he dragged himself off his bed and shuffled toward the entrance to his room. Listlessly, he waved his hand in front of the opening mechanism, and the door whooshed open._

_Teyla stood outside, wearing loose clothes that betrayed the soft bulge of her belly. She glanced up and smiled uncertainly at him, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. _

_She was so pretty._

_"What are you doing up?" John asked, trying to act normal. "Shouldn't you be resting?"_

_"I...Well, the baby's kicking." She slowly rubbed her stomach. "He's been kicking me all night."_

_"Oh," John nodded, really at a loss as to how he was supposed to help with that._

_"I just...I thought you'd..." She stopped, then smiled a little bit, glancing down. "Give me your hand."_

_"Huh?" John's brow furrowed. She held out her hand to him. Going cold, John gave her his right hand. She pulled him a bit closer and pressed his hand down onto the baby, warming his fingers. _

_"Feel that?" she wondered._

_"I...um..." John felt color rush into his face. "No..."_

_"Push a little harder," she urged, gently forcing him to do so. "You will not hurt me. Feel it now?" _

_John jerked a bit when his fingers finally encountered a sharp solidness beneath her soft skin. A thousand emotions instantly rushed through him, as if he had been shocked. _

_"I do not know if it is an elbow or a knee..." Teyla murmured thoughtfully, keeping her hand over his. "Isn't it amazing?" She lifted her head and unabashedly beamed at him. He gazed back into her eyes, not moving his hand where he felt that baby, that little fragile, incredible life beneath his palm._

_"Yeah," he said breathlessly. The baby reared back and kicked against him hard. Teyla winced, then laughed. John unexpectedly could not keep himself from smiling back at her. He withdrew his hand, and shakily, almost painfully, rested it on her shoulder. _

_"How've you been?" he asked softly, rubbing his thumb back and forth against her skin. She swallowed. _

_"I have been...all right," she answered, taking a deep, braced breath. She searched his face. "I am sorry I did not tell you," she whispered. "I simply...did not know what to say." _

_John bit his lip and nodded, casting his gaze to the floor. She shifted so that she stood directly in front of him, then lowered her head. Realizing what she wanted him to do, he lowered his as well and touched his forehead to hers. He found himself wanting to kiss her on the cheek, on the forehead, but stopped himself. She did not belong to him._

_"Goodnight, John," she said quietly, and turned and left. _

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

After that night, three months ago, Teyla and John had both made an effort at speaking to each other, at spending time together. At first it had felt awkward, and for John at least, it was always painful, but he would rather be with her and feel that dull ache than lie awake at night and be so lonesome for her he could barely breathe. Now, Teyla was almost full term and they had found no sign of the Athosians---and deep down, John buried a shameful hope that, somehow, Kanan had not survived.

But then, this morning, everything had changed.

An offworld team had found the Athosians. While some of them had been killed in the adventures that had taken them from their home, most of them had survived. Including Kanan.

John had been standing in the Gateroom when the transmission had come through. He had been rooted to the spot, frozen with a sort of livid, sickening fury.

"Come on," Ronon had growled in his ear, grabbing his elbow. "You're about due to have the crap beat out of you."

"Really?" John had muttered absently, staring at the empty ring that was about to bring one of his worst fears to reality.

"Yeah. It's just what you need," Ronon advised through his teeth, so no one else would hear. John looked over at his friend, and saw complete understanding in his dark eyes. Ronon wanted to distract him.

"Sure," John nodded, perceiving the Gate's sapphire light flashing to life out of the corner of his eye. "Sounds good."

And so, forcing himself not to even glance at the Gate, John had strode out behind Ronon's stalking form toward the sparring room.

They had now been there for three hours.

"You ready to quit, Sheppard?" Ronon finally panted, sweating as well. John wordlessly shook his head.

"Well, I am," Ronon tossed his sticks down, flopped onto the floor and leaned back against the wall.

John's heart was pounding erratically, surging with adrenaline. He felt as if he could fight for the rest of the day, and simply could not sense the five or six places Ronon had struck him. He also felt slightly ill.

"Why don't you go back to your room, take a shower and watch a movie or somethin'?" Ronon suggested. John cocked an eyebrow at him.

"What're you implying?" he questioned, out of breath. Ronon looked back at him.

"Don't go looking for him," he said pointedly "Not until you know how you're gonna act."

John did not answer, but nodded again. Dropping his weapons as well, he turned and left the room.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

He had barely started down the corridor before he heard a deep voice that tightened his entire chest.

"Colonel Sheppard? Colonel, may I speak with you?"

John did not turn, but kept walking, a haze seeming to descend around him. He dimly heard quick footsteps approaching him from behind, and then someone came up beside him. John glanced up for an instant to see a tall, broad-shouldered, bearded young man with keen dark eyes, long dark hair, and wearing the rustic, earthy style of clothes usual to the Athosians. It was Kanan.

"It is good to see you, sir," Kanan began cordially.

"What do you want, Kanan?" John asked roughly.

"I...well, I wanted to speak with you---about Teyla,"

John stopped and turned sharply, his jaws tightening, aware that his gaze doubtlessly shot daggers. Kanan's brow furrowed and he hesitated a moment.

"I wanted to ask about the possibility of my living in Atlantis," Kanan said, recovering and drawing himself up. "I have been absent during most of Teyla's pregnancy, and I...feel badly that I have not been there for her."

John tried to control his breathing. Kanan went on.

"Our marriage has not been sealed yet---it will be confirmed upon the delivery of our first living child, and so I would require separate quarters, but," Kanan lifted his head. "I want to be near her." Kanan took a breath. "I also would ask you to consider taking me on as part of your team."

John started.

"What?"

Kanan blinked.

"Well, Teyla will be tending to the child. Her duties as part of your team will still need to be fulfilled," he said, as if this was obvious. "I wish to do that for her."

"Do whatever you want," John gritted. "I won't be in charge of that. 'Cause if you stay in Atlantis, I'm going back to Earth...or the other side of the galaxy; whichever is farther away."

Kanan looked shocked.

"That makes no sense, Colonel Sheppard," Kanan stated. Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "Is there something going on that I need to know?" he probed slowly, with fearless suspicion. "Something about you and Teyla?"

John did not even realize he had hit Kanan until the man was lying sprawled on the floor. Pain seared through John's hand and he just stood there as Kanan, stunned, touched his bleeding lip. Not saying a word, John whirled and stormed down the hallway.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV


	2. Chapter 2

"I just don't understand him," Kanan paced back and forth within Teyla's quarters. Teyla sat back in one of her comfortable chairs, absently rubbing her stomach. Her heart had not settled down since she had heard the word that her people had returned. That, and Kanan's words, were making her uneasy---even slightly nauseated.

"I have always been civil toward him, and helped him when I could. I am grateful for all he has done for our people," Kanan went on. He gestured angrily. "And then I ask him a simple question and he punches me in the mouth!"

Teyla jerked.

"John hit you?"

"Yes!" Kanan thundered, whirling around and beginning to pace again.

"Why?" Teyla wanted to know. "What did you ask him?"

"Oh, he was acting strangely when I spoke to him of you," Kanan shook his head, then glanced at her. "I asked him if his interests in you concerned more than just friendship."

Teyla swallowed, tightening.

"And...what was his answer?"

Kanan rolled his eyes and put a hand up to his mouth.

"He hit me in the teeth."

"Oh," Teyla murmured. She tried to gather herself, shifting slightly in her seat. "What...What made you think he was acting strangely?" she asked, trying to sound noncommittal.

"I asked him for permission to live in Atlantis, so I could have you near me. I also requested to be part of his team, to fill in for you," he began.

"And...he did not react favorably?" Teyla guessed. Kanan's brow furrowed and he stopped pacing.

"No. What he said made no sense. He told me that if I moved to Atlantis, he would return to Earth. I believe he means it, too."

Teyla lost all her color, and her heart turned to stone. Kanan glanced at her, his face suddenly flooding with concern.

"Teyla? Are you all right?" he drew near. Her hand fluttered up to her forehead.

"I am fine. I...just have a headache, that's all," she tried to assure him, faking a smile. "I need to rest."

"Are you sure?" he pressed.

"Yes," she answered firmly, keeping up that fake smile. "I will be fine. I just need a nap."

"All right," he said, albeit reluctantly. "Call for me if you need me." He kissed her on the forehead, turned and left the room. Teyla covered her face in her hand.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Teyla's eyes snapped open at ten o'clock that night. Absently, she realized she was covered in cold sweat. Her heart beat strangely, and she was tingling all over.

Something was not right.

She tried to sit up, and her vision went black for a moment. She stopped, and her arms started to shake.

Then, a lancing pain jolted down through her abdomen. She gasped through her teeth and fell back against the pillow. Terror launched through her and she reached over and slapped a bedside communicator.

"Dr. Keller, this is Teyla," she managed, though she could barely summon the breath. Stabbing pangs slammed into her again.

"Yes, Teyla, what is it?" Dr. Keller's voice came clearly over the communicator.

"Something is wrong!" Teyla gasped. "I need...Jennifer, I need---"

"Teyla, what's going on? What do you feel?"

Teyla let out a yelp and clapped a hand over her baby.

"I need help!" Teyla cried. "Please! Please hurry!"

"I'll be right there."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Of course, John had heard that Teyla had gone into labor. His first driving impulse was to jump up and rush to the infirmary to her side.

Thus, he got out of bed and locked his door.

Returning to his bed, he lay back down, pillowed his head in his hands and stared.

There was no place for him there. Kanan and the other Athosians would be nearby, if not right next to her. John would see the baby later---after all, why should she want him there, in the delivery room? He was just her friend.

That final realization made him ill.

He rolled over, his back to the door, and wallowed in his misery for about ten blurry hours.

That is, until Ronon came to his door.

"Sheppard, open up!" Ronon thundered. Groaning, John got up, hauled himself to the door and opened it. Blearily, he leaned against the doorframe and swiped at his face.

"What's up?"

"Not sure," Ronon answered, looking drained and dark under his eyes. "Teyla's just taking a long time, I guess. Or something's not normal."

John looked up at him, chilled, but answered flatly.

"Dr. Keller can handle it."

"You'd better come," Ronon advised seriously. "You're the only one who knows her who's still in his room."

Gritting his teeth, John reluctantly followed Ronon out into the hall without bothering to change out of his black night pants and white T-shirt.

He found a good number of Athosians outside in the waiting area, along with Rodney, Samantha and Zelenka.

"Good morning, Sheppard," Carter greeted him somberly. She was one of the few who was not still in her pajamas.

"Hi, Colonel," he answered unsteadily.

"You may go in," she stated, gesturing toward the door of the delivery room. John shot her a look.

"But I---"

"Go," she urged, almost in the tone of an order, and so he found he could not argue. His feet getting cold because of the marble floor, he made his way through the crowd of silent Athosians and through the sliding door.

He was right---Kanan was inside. He stood a few strides farther into the room, facing Teyla, but not beside her. Teyla lay on a bed almost against the far wall, surrounded by monitors, nurses and machines, a privacy screen obstructing her from the waist down. John slowed to a halt at the sight of her. She looked strained and fearful, her hair sticking to her skin a little because she was sweating, her blankets and pillows in disarray.

John stayed in the shadows of the room and leaned back against the doorframe. Dr. Keller and the nurses exchanged a flurry of medical bibble-babble, none of which John fully understood. But he did not like their tone at all.

Teyla was breathing hard, and rarely opened her eyes. Every once in a while, she would strenuously raise her upper body, as if she was doing a sit-up, and her face would twist with agony. Then she would let out a gasping yelp and fall back onto the pillow again, her eyes momentarily flashing open to stare resolutely at the ceiling.

Kanan almost stood directly in front of John. Once, Teyla's head turned slightly in their direction, and something dimly registered in her eyes. John was sure she had been noticing Kanan. And then she was consumed by another contraction.

"All right, Teyla, give this one more try---and if not, we'll do surgery, okay?" Dr. Keller, looking haggard, said into the midst of Teyla's groaning.

Then Teyla jerked, as if her puppeteer had cut her strings. She collapsed back onto the bed and lost all her color. Her head fell sideways, toward Kanan again, and she reached out with a trembling hand. Kanan stepped toward her. John's heart twisted. He could not bear to see Kanan go to her, take her hand and kiss it, and caress her hair. He could not be here anymore.

He turned to go.

"_John!!_" her wail tore the air. He whirled around. She was reaching desperately toward him, her eyes filled with tears. Kanan stood there in shock, staring back at him as well.

Without thinking, John flew to her side. He grabbed her hand in both of his. Hers was clammy and cold.

"Teyla, what's wrong?" he asked hurriedly, his heartbeat thundering.

"Something tore," she whimpered faintly, her tears running down her cheeks. "Something inside me _tore_..."

"All right, that's it," Dr. Keller snapped. "We're taking her to OR. Prep her for an emergency C-section."

The nurses and doctors began a whirl of activity all around them, but John saw nothing but Teyla's face. Her eyelids flickered, and he feared she would lose consciousness.

"Stay with me, okay Teyla?" he asked urgently, trying to keep his throat from closing and clasping her hand even tighter.

"John..." she whispered. "Don't leave..."

"I'm not leaving," he assured her, letting go with one hand to stroke her forehead and forcing back his panic.

"All right, we're taking her in," said a male nurse, grabbing the head of her bed to wheel her into the operating room. "You're going to have to wait outside, sir."

"John!" Teyla grabbed for him frantically, her eyes widening. "No, no!"

"All right, relax, Teyla," Dr. Keller touched her arm. "He'll be right beside you. He just needs to scrub first and put on a suit and then he'll be right in, okay?"

John could tell that Teyla was scrambling to control her emotions, and finally nodded slightly.

"I'll be there in just a second. I promise," John told her fervently. He gave in to his impulse and kissed her swiftly on the lips, trying to give her strength, and allowed himself to be hustled away by one of the nurses so that he could scrub up.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay, brace yourselves.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

John sat on a short stool on Teyla's right side, attempting to stay out of the way. He wore a turquoise scrub suit, and a kind of helmet with a clear, plastic screen that shielded his face. However, he did not have to wear gloves, so Teyla could feel the touch of his skin on her hand and arm.

Another, shorter, tabletop screen had been erected, right beneath her breasts, so Teyla could not see the operation. Blinding lights hung overhead, their illumination flashing off the glinting instruments and plastic face-shields of the doctors and nurses above. John did not look to see what they were doing. The bloody instruments and sponges he caught sight of once in a while were enough to tell him that if he looked, he would probably get sick or faint, and that would mean that they would take him away from Teyla.

Teyla---who felt cold beneath his touch. Her head was turned toward him, her dark eyes dimly tracing the features of his face as if she was in a dream. She had been given a local anesthetic, so she would be awake to see her baby, but an IV tube had been inserted into her left arm, and she had been given an epidural to further ease the pain.

"How're ya doing?" John asked her quietly, his voice echoing inside against his mask. Teyla blinked slowly.

"I...do not feel well," she whispered, swallowing.

"Well, hang in there," he urged, stroking her forehead with his thumb.

"Suction," Dr. Keller requested. "Quick---I've got a bleeder and I can't see what I'm

doing."

John glanced up at Dr. Keller briefly before trying to give Teyla a reassuring smile.

"It's almost over. You're gonna make it."

She nodded listlessly and her eyelids fluttered. John's hands tightened on hers.

"Teyla---"

"All right, here we are," Dr. Keller announced. "I'm cutting through the membrane of the uterus and...Oh..."

John's head jerked up. Dr. Keller's hands went still. The nurses around her were looking down at Teyla's body in dismay.

"What?" he demanded. "_What_?"

Teyla's eyes went blank. Her head turned so that she stared stonily at the ceiling. Her jaw set, a grim expression settling over her features.

"The...The placenta tore away too soon," Dr. Keller's face contorted as she reached down inside the incision. John felt a terrible, sickening dread fill his blood with ice. He could not take his eyes from Dr. Keller. She bit her lip, then shortly shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "The baby...The baby is not alive."

Teyla's face stayed motionless.

"_What_...?" John rasped hoarsely.

"We still need to deliver quickly," Dr. Keller went on flatly, and John could tell she was heartbroken. "We can't leave her open like this---we need to fix the damage done inside and then close." She gave John a deliberate, sorrowful look. "I would advise that you look away, Colonel." Tears seared down his face and a cry lodged in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away as Dr. Keller silently removed the baby and the nurses set to work on stitching the incisions back together. John swiped at his eyes, his hand banging against the infernal plastic mask, but the most Teyla did during the entire ordeal was blink her long-lashed, lightless eyes twice.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

They helped John remove his scrubs right there, by Teyla's side. He threw the stupid helmet across the room the first chance he got, and it banged harshly against the hard floor. No one said anything.

They brought the baby out for Teyla to hold, wrapped in a blue blanket. John could not bear it. He leaned his head down on Teyla's pillow and screwed his eyes shut---he absolutely would not see this. Teyla did not move.

"It was a boy," Dr. Keller said unevenly. "Here, Teyla. You need to look at him for a minute."

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then John felt some semblance of life come back into Teyla's frame. She shifted. She reached. She clasped her baby in her arms.

John still did not lift his eyes.

Complete silence reigned for ten minutes. John fought to regulate it, but his breathing became ragged.

"I...will need a name for the record," Dr. Keller murmured. "Did you...have something in mind?"

John's heart could barely stand the horrible anguish of such a wickedly wrong moment. Teyla did not answer for a second. He heard her take a breath.

"John."

It was as if she had exercised omnipotent control over him---despite his blatant refusal to do so, he raised his head and looked at her. However, she was gazing down at the tiny, motionless face swathed in blankets.

"John?" Dr. Keller repeated, her pencil poised over a clipboard. Teyla's eyes flickered.

"That's...what I had planned..." She swallowed. "John."

Dr. Keller wrote it down. Inexpressible grief, piercing empathy and bitter regret swelled through him, pushing violently against the edges of John's heart until finally it broke.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

After they took the baby from her, Teyla's arms had fallen lifelessly down to her sides. They kept the IV in her left arm, for the pain medication, and slowly wheeled her into the recovery room. John stayed right beside her, holding her hand. Courteously, one of the nurses brought the stool back so that he could sit there.

It was midday, now, but they turned out all the lights so that Teyla could attempt to sleep. The only illumination was the dim blinking of a few monitors elsewhere. A few on-duty nurses whispered silently through the infirmary, keeping a respectful distance but a watchful eye.

John's mind was numb. He watched Teyla's chest rise and fall with her breathing, but he could absently tell that she was not asleep. His muscles felt like lead, and a dull, aching, almost literal pain pulsed through his veins.

He could not imagine what Teyla must be feeling.

He took her hand in both of his, slowly lifting each one of her fingers, running his fingertips along her knuckles and her palm. For hours he did this, never ceasing.

Thus, when she took a breath and spoke, the question she asked filled him with distress.

"John...are you still there?" she asked faintly.

"Yeah, I'm right here," he told her, his hand gripping hers as he leaned toward her. She was silent for a long moment. She licked her lips.

"John," she breathed.

"Yes?"

"I am cold." She swallowed. "And I cannot feel you."

John glanced around helplessly. She was covered in a thick blanket, and the room was even slightly warm. She was still a little shocky, he assumed. He thought it was a miracle she was even speaking.

"Okay, let me know if I bump you or anything," John muttered, got to his feet, and managed to slide gingerly onto the bed next to her. The bed was barely wide enough, and he had to lie on his side and put his head on her pillow, but now he was delicately pressed against her, holding her hand up against his chest.

"Is that better?" he asked quietly in concern, his breath fluttering her hair. She did not answer or turn her head, but her fingers gave his a small squeeze.

They lay like this for a long time and she gradually settled against him, accepting his warmth in a way that did not hurt her stitches. An untold time later, she took a deeper breath again.

"John...where did he go?"

John's heart twisted again, in such a way that his previous misery seemed like happiness in comparison. He could not answer. The next breath Teyla took sounded more urgent.

"Where did he go after they took him from me?"

John's brow furrowed deeply and he gently rubbed her fingers. He cleared his throat, closed his eyes and pushed his forehead into her hair. He could not _possibly_ tell her what they did with dead bodies on Atlantis, or even mention anything about a funeral or a service. He could not inflict that kind of pain on her.

And then he realized that that was not what she had meant.

"He...He went to heaven," he told her, his tone thick with emotion.

She breathed unsteadily.

"Heaven..." she mouthed. "What is it like?" she wondered, her voice trembling.

"It's a..." John began, then stopped, abruptly realizing that this was going to be one of the most difficult tasks he had ever been assigned. He fought to maintain control of his voice, but he could not keep his hands from quivering. "From...From what I've heard...it's beautiful," he murmured, pushing his head closer so he could speak right into her ear. "There's a city there...made of pure gold...and an ocean that looks like glass---even prettier than the one just outside here. And there are green, sunny fields, and...trees and all sorts of animals...and God is there." John's heart was breaking again. "And since He's the boss, there's no pain...or sadness...or dying." "John..." Teyla choked, squeezing her eyes shut, and turning her head so her nose pressed against his cheek. "My baby..."

John could find no more words. Thus, he just wrapped his arm around her shoulders, held her tight, and cried with her.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Six months went by. Kanan eventually left with the rest of the Athosians, for Teyla had refused to speak to him. John actually felt genuine sympathy for the man---he had never gotten to see his son.

Ever after the terrible morning, John and Teyla walked hand in hand through Atlantis without a thought. It was as if there was no difference between his hand and hers, anymore. The night that their two hearts had broken together bound them forever.

No one said a word about their constant proximity, respectful and understanding of Teyla's loss. It appeared so natural, as if with a mere look at each other they could communicate volumes and anticipate what the other was about to do. Virtually the only time they separated was to go to their individual chambers to sleep.

But some nights, even half a year later, John could just tell when Teyla was not resting well. He would sigh, his own heart heavy, get up and open his door. Each time, he would find her standing out in the corridor, her head bowed, one hand absently touching her slender abdomen, which no longer bore the signs of a coming child. John would stop and cant his head, once more observing her beauty. Then, wordlessly, he would hold out his hand to her. Lifting her eyes to his, she would take his hand, and they would stroll through the silent city.

Eventually, they would end up at a small balcony where they would sit and listen to the waves.

"John, I am cold."

He would reach around her and pull her tight to his side. She would lean her head on his shoulder.

"Heaven, you say?" she would murmur tearfully.

"Yeah," he would rub her arm, and point to the stars. "See? There's holes in the floor of

it. The gold and the sun are shining through."

For a long, long while, neither would say anything. Then John would feel her tears against his neck.

"John...my baby..."

And he would just wrap his arm tighter around her shoulders, and cry with her.

THE END

Gee, I'm sorry guys. I almost made myself cry once or twice. Let me know what you think, though. And if this totally ruined your day, go and read "When You Taught Me How to Dance," and please forgive me.


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